Flora and Fauna
by BrilliantLady
Summary: The Yule Ball is coming, and Neville's time is running out as he searches for a girl who's genuinely interested in going as his date. Fluff, Neville/Luna (Luneville), complete.


"One week until the Yule Ball," moaned Ron to Neville as they walked out of the Potions classroom, "and I still don't know who to ask. All the good-looking ones are already taken. I must be the only bloke apart from Harry who doesn't have a date. I'm going to end up with a troll. Hey, have _you_ asked anyone?"

Neville nodded. "Yes, a couple of girls, but they both turned me down – they both said they were already going with someone. So, I don't have a date either."

Ron cheered up slightly at the news that he wasn't alone in his suffering. "Who were they?"

"Lavender. And… Hermione," Neville said, fussing with the strap of his bag to avoid looking Ron in the eye. He didn't want to upset him – everyone knew Hermione was secretly sweet on Ron, even if the redhead appeared oblivious to her interest. Still, until recently he'd held out hope that Ron's disinterest meant she might be willing to consider himself as a possible alternative. No such luck, though.

"Seriously? Why would you want to go out with Hermione?"

Idiot. "Because she's been really nice, helping me out with homework and giving me tips on potion brewing," Neville mumbled.

"Pity she's ah… going with someone else," Ron said, choking down a laugh with a pitiful attempt at a straight face. "Did she say who?"

Well, it seemed it wasn't Ron – that had been his first guess. "No."

Neville sighed, looking down at his shuffling feet as they walked towards the Great Hall. _Yeah, I guess it_ _ **was**_ _laughable to think she would've wanted to go dancing with me_ , he thought. _Knowing my luck no-one is ever going to say yes_. Lavender had even laughed at him right to his face.

As the two were walking through the Entrance Hall, a giggling cluster of Beauxbatons girls in their pale blue uniforms walked past, and Ron's attention was snared when Fleur Delacour smiled in satisfaction at his gaping look of wordless admiration.

"I'm going to ask her out," Ron mumbled dazedly, as the group stopped to chat with some older Hogwarts boys, including Cedric Diggory.

"No, don't," warned Neville.

But Ron marched straight up to her through the crowd, and blurted out, "Fleur, will you go to the Yule Ball with me? You're the prettiest girl around, and not one bit like a troll, or covered in pimples."

Fleur didn't say anything. She just arched one pale eyebrow and looked down her nose at him like Ron was a sea slug – disgusting and beneath her notice. A couple of her friends started tittering in amusement.

As Neville watched on in empathetic horror, Ron blinked and came to his senses. His cheeks blushed beet red as he looked around at the amused crowd snickering and staring at him, then he turned tail and fled. He ran for his life in the direction of the stairs up to the Gryffindor Common Room, as laughter followed in his wake.

Neville winced and continued on his way, carefully not even _looking_ in Fleur Delacour's direction. He bumped into a couple of people as he stared at his shoes while he walked, but he counted that an acceptable consequence of being guarded from such potential public humiliation. He'd have to ask someone else. Someone safe, who would be kind like Hermione and wouldn't laugh at him if they said no. Someone who didn't already have a date and maybe was a bit shy, like him.

He darted glances around the Gryffindor table as he approached it, looking for someone nice. Ginny Weasley caught his eye. She was quiet, and friendly. She didn't have a lot of friends, just like him. And best of all as a third year she was unlikely to have a date for the Yule Ball, as only fourth years and up were allowed to attend – younger years could only go if an older student invited them as a date. He thought about asking her over dinner, but in the face of his sharp new memory of Ron's humiliating experience his Gryffindor courage failed him. Neville sighed. Maybe the Sorting Hat had been right, and he would've been happiest in Hufflepuff.

 _I'll ask her after dinner_ , he resolved. _Then I can have a bit more privacy – the corridors aren't perfect, but they're better than asking someone in the middle of the Great Hall._

Trying to summon up a bit of elusive courage to compensate for choosing to procrastinate his invitation, he sat down _near_ her at the Gryffindor table where he could watch her while he thought about his plan and its likelihood of success. It was a wise choice, he decided not long afterwards as he picked at his dinner while eavesdropping on her conversation with a dark-haired young girl.

"Do you think anyone will ask you to the Ball?" the girl asked Ginny. "I wish Lee Jordan would ask me! He's so cute!"

Ginny shrugged, and looked down at her dinner shyly. "I don't think anyone will ask me. But I wish Harry would!" she replied quietly. If Neville hadn't been sitting two places down from her, he never would have heard what she longed for.

 _Well, that's that_ , he thought glumly. _I'll have to ask someone else. I don't want to be turned down_ _ **again**_ _, and I don't want everyone staring at me because I'm the only loser there without a date._

He went to the library after dinner. He wasn't brooding, he told himself. He just really wanted to study. On a Friday night. At the very start of the Christmas holidays.

He wasn't the only student who'd decided to take refuge among the unjudging shelves of musty tomes. Hermione was there too, though that wasn't a shock. Hermione and books went together like a Niffler and gold. The quiet whispered conversation she was having at a tiny study table with Victor Krum was a bit more of a surprise. Krum took her hand and smiled at her, and she blushed prettily. Neville sighed and moved to a _different_ secluded corner of the library before either of them could spot him.

A pale-haired young Ravenclaw student was sitting down cross-legged in the middle of one of the aisles between the shelves, engrossed in reading a heavy, leather-bound book resting on her lap.

"Pardon me," Neville said politely, as he edged past her, shuffling along with his back pressed tightly against a bookshelf so he wouldn't bump her. He glanced curiously down at her book as he passed – it appeared to be a medieval bestiary of some kind.

"There's nothing to pardon. But I wouldn't want to disappoint you, so alright, you're pardoned," she said, smiling up at him momentarily, before going back to her book.

Neville nabbed a copy of the _Encyclopedia of Toadstools_ off the next shelf and found a desk to sit at against the wall at the end of the aisle. Time passed peacefully enough for a while, and Neville was deep in reading a fascinating section on extinct varieties of fungi. Apparently, in Ancient Egypt eating mushrooms was an exclusive privilege reserved for the Pharaoh and his dining companions, probably because some rare magical varieties of toadstool could genuinely retard aging.

He was jarred from his immersion in his book and his daydreams about re-discovering lost species of toadstools by the sound of high-pitched voices calling someone.

"Here she is, girls! Hello _Loony_ , did you miss us?" a girl cooed, while a couple of other girls snickered in the background."

"No."

"Don't you want to come back to the Common Room with us?"

"I'd rather just read, thank you."

Neville glanced back over his shoulder and saw an auburn-haired girl in a Ravenclaw uniform snatching the book out of the blonde girl's lap, while a couple of other girls watched on with mean smiles on their faces.

"Please give my book back, Kim."

"I'm just looking!" the girl replied, with a smirk. "You should share your things better, Loony."

A tall dark-skinned Ravenclaw girl with glasses spoke up next. "Oh dear!" she exclaimed with a patently false air of concern, gazing down at the girl they were all looming over. "Where are your shoes, Loony? Did you lose them again?" Kim and the other girl tittered at that.

"I don't know," the girl said, sounding genuinely puzzled. "I couldn't find any this morning. Maybe the Nargles took them."

The girls laughed at her, but the shoeless girl didn't join them in laughter. Neville frowned. This sounded like taunting and bullying, not friendly teasing.

"Those pesky Nargles again. Did you see any while you were looking around Loony's bed, Latisha?" the last girl asked.

The dark-skinned girl shook her head and assumed an apologetic air. "I'm afraid not. I looked _all_ through your things Loony, but I couldn't find any Nargles… or shoes."

"Oh."

"Say 'thank you' to Latisha for helping you look for your things," Kim ordered.

"But she didn't–"

"I said say 'thank you', Loony!" Kim repeated more harshly, and Latisha and the other girl giggled.

"Loony, Loony Lovegood!" taunted the brown-haired third girl.

"I don't think you really need this book, I'll put it away for you," said Latisha, with saccharine sweetness, putting the bestiary up high on a shelf.

"I'm still reading–"

"So _rude_ ," chided Kim. "She's _helping_ you."

Neville pushed back his chair with a loud scraping noise on the stone flagstones and stood up to face them. Sternly, he called, "That's _enough_! Leave her alone."

"We're just talking with our friend," sniffed Kim, turning to the third girl for support. "Weren't we, Felicity?"

"It's really none of your business," Felicity agreed.

"I think it is, and I think _your_ business is _elsewhere_ , unless you want me to talk to Madam Pince or Professor Flitwick about the matter?" Neville warned.

"Come on," Kim said, with a dark look at Neville. "We don't want to waste the evening hanging out with Loony anyway, do we girls?"

They left the library at that, with Kim "accidentally" bumping into their victim on the way out, who didn't say a word and acted like nothing had happened.

Neville walked over and offered her a hand up. "Are you alright? I don't think much of your 'friends'."

"They're not my friends. I don't have any friends."

Neville shrugged. "I'm not the most popular in my House either. Seamus and Ron are alright, I guess. Better no friends than girls like that, though. I'm Neville Longbottom. Gryffindor, fourth year." He held his hand out to shake, and she hesitantly shook it as if expecting some kind of trick. She smiled when nothing happened except a cordial handshake.

"Luna Lovegood, third year Ravenclaw."

"It's nice to meet you, Luna," Neville said politely.

"It's nicer to met _you_. You were very kind, and brave."

He rubbed at the back of his neck in embarrassment. "Not that brave. But you're welcome."

"Braver than me. I never know what to say to them. I don't suppose… would you help me get my book down? Latisha put it up very high."

Neville looked up the tall wooden shelf doubtfully. "I might be older, but I'm not much taller than you are. But here – _Wingardium Leviosa_!" he called, with a swish and a flick of his wand. Luna laughed as she floated gently up into the air, robes swirling and pale hair wafting about her like a halo as she was lifted up by the currents of magic. She snatched her bestiary back off the top shelf and clutched it to her chest as Neville lowered her down with scrupulously attentive care.

"Kind, brave, and _smart_ ," she said admiringly, silvery-blue eyes gazing at him unblinkingly.

Neville's cheeks warmed, and he hoped he didn't look as red as Ron sometimes did. "Would… would you like to go to the Yule Ball with me?" he blurted out. He quickly shoved his left hand behind his back, crossing his fingers.

"Really? Me?" she said doubtfully.

"Uh, yes? Really? You seem nice."

Her face lit up with delight. "Well, I would love to! Like… a date?"

"If you want to," he said. "Or just as friends, if you don't want to make it a date."

Luna chewed at her lip and frowned slightly, hands clutching tightly at her recovered book. "Do I have to pick? Because both sound nice. I'd like a date, but I'd also like a friend. If you want to be friends. Maybe you don't want to be friends with someone like me. People think I'm crazy, you know."

"It can be both," promised Neville. "I'd like a friend too. Shall we see if we get along with each other?"

She beamed again, and Neville thought she looked very pretty when she was smiling. "Then it's definitely yes. To both."

-000-

They spent a little time together every day for the next week before the Ball, getting acquainted. They shared their interests in herbology and magical creatures, and when Luna opened up about her mother's death, Neville empathised and gave her an awkward hug and talked about his sadness that his own mother barely recognised him. It wasn't the best attempt at comforting someone, and he worried that he was saying all the wrong things. But it seemed to help her to know that someone cared, even if it sometimes came out a little oddly.

Sometimes they didn't have anything to talk about, and Neville worried he was boring Luna. "We don't _always_ need to talk," Luna soothed. "Today let's just read next to each other."

"That sounds great," said Neville with relief. Interacting people was hard and tiring sometimes, even with someone friendly like Luna.

They spent the next hour reading companionably together in the library, occasionally reading out a favourite passage to each other. Neville learnt a little about the mysterious dances of Mooncalves that made circles in crops, while Luna was interested to consider the possibilities that eating Gillyweed might afford for searching for rare underwater creatures.

Neville didn't tell Luna, but one day when he was on his own he'd spotted a Ravenclaw prefect and had a quiet word with her about the bullies in her house, explaining that he didn't want to cause _more_ trouble by going directly to Professor Flitwick. She frowned and promised to investigate the matter, and Neville noticed Luna had shoes back on again the next day.

-000-

The much-anticipated Yule Ball arrived at last, and after dinner Harry led Ginny out onto the dancefloor for the opening waltz with the other champions and their dates. She gazed up at him with dreamy adoring eyes while he twirled her around in awkward circles. Hermione looked stunning in her floaty, periwinkle-blue robes, but with the way she watched Krum – and an occasional sidelong glance at Ron's scowling face – Neville was glad she'd turned him down. Because he had an even better date who really _wanted_ to be there with him - Luna looked like a vision of soft moonlight in her silvery silk formal robes, with Neville's corsage of creamy white winter honeysuckle pinned to her bodice.

Neville had no regrets - he knew he had the best date. Ginny might have started out the evening as happy as he was, but her face sank into sadness and jealous scowls as the evening went on and Harry didn't bother to dance a second time with her. He just seemed to want to sit around in a sulk drinking Butterbeer with Ron, staring longingly at Cho (who seemed very happy with Cedric). Ron was also an inattentive and unappreciative date, and Parvati soon left his side in favour of dancing with a boy from Durmstrang rather than watch him jealously mooning over Hermione. Fleur was undoubtedly the most beautiful girl in the room, but Roger Davies was so dazed by her charms he could hardly concentrate on what he was doing and appeared to be rapidly losing both her respect and her fleeting affection.

They were all nice girls, no doubt. But Luna was _perfect_.

"This is the best night of my whole life," Luna whispered dreamily, lowering her head to rest on Neville's shoulder.

Neville's hand tightened on her waist. "It's mine, too. Will you be my girlfriend, Luna? As well as a friend?"

"Aren't I already? The other girls said you were my boyfriend."

Neville beamed. "Then I guess I am. That's alright, isn't it?"

"Do you have Wrackspurts in your head? Of course it's alright. If I'm your girlfriend, it would be a bit odd if you weren't my boyfriend, wouldn't it? How would that even work?"

"You're quite right, Luna dear," Neville murmured, gazing lovingly into her eyes.

Luna beamed at him and leaned forward to claim his lips in a kiss, her nose bumping against his on the way in. Her lips were soft and warm, and Neville thought that life didn't get any better than this. That is, until she kissed him a second and third time, the both of them growing more practised, their noses not getting in the way so much as they kissed gently. Life _could_ get even better, it seemed.

Professor McGonagall walked by them as they stood stationary on the dance floor while they kissed, and coughed pointedly. They sprang apart obediently at her smiling reminder to behave. But even the watchful eyes of the chaperoning teachers couldn't spoil the evening for the couple.

They twirled around the dance floor almost all night, until their feet ached. When the Weird Sisters finished playing at midnight to a last, loud round of applause, Neville and Luna agreed that it was a pity that the Ball had to end so soon. But unlike some of the other new couples whose relationships had debuted that at the Yule Ball, their relationship would last longer than the length of the night. In fact, Neville hoped it would last forever.

* * *

A/N: This fic was written for the Valentine's Day AO3 FB Challenge, and as a gift for RavenclawPixieRose.

Kim Sheringham, Latisha Randle, and Felicity Eastchurch are canonical Ravenclaw bullies from the HP video games.


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